Part 24 (1/2)

The horses had been jogging along a trail that now turned off to what looked like a wide plain.

”Here's the bridge I've been heading for,” said Polly. ”From here on, it's clear going to Lone Pine Blaze.”

”Bridge! Do you call this a bridge,” laughed Eleanor.

”It's a forest ranger's bridge. They build these over chasms and streams so horses and men can quickly reach any part of the forest when there is a fire. If they had to ford swift streams, or go round about, much time would be lost.”

The bridge in question was made of loose tree-trunks thrown across the river and pegged down on either side where the ends rested upon the steep banks.

After crossing the log-bridge, Polly led the way towards what seemed to be a veritable wilderness of forest. Giant pines thrust their green tops far above trees that would have been considered landmarks in the East, but were deemed quite ordinary in the West. Next in height to the commonly-sized pines came gigantic oaks and then the still shorter aspens and lodge-pole pine.

”You never intend breaking through that tangle of trees, I hope, Polly!” cried Barbara, who had never seen such a bewildering growth of forest in her life.

”No, not this time! I'm making for that pine that you can see way above all of the others. That is Lone Pine Blaze, because it bears the blaze that shows the way to the up-trail!”

Noddy must have been a frequent traveler to this tree for she knew exactly the way to go and when she came opposite the pine that bore the blaze, she stopped of her own accord.

”Now, wasn't that cute?” cried Eleanor, riding her burro directly behind Noddy.

Polly jumped from her burro's back and went over to Choko. She removed the ax from the pack and chopped a way through the slender undergrowth which had grown up that season.

”Yes, here's the blaze as plain as day! Any of you girls want to read it for me?” laughed Polly.

The three curious girls jumped from their mounts and pushed a way over to the tree where they saw a queer mark made deep in the tree where the bark could not over-grow it.

”What does it say, Poll!” asked Eleanor.

”It means for us to turn to the left and follow the trail upwards!”

said Polly, pointing to the signs.

”I should think the ranchers would put up sign-posts to guide travelers!” said Barbara.

”How long do you suppose a post would last in a mild little wind-storm that uproots trees and tosses them about like wisps of hay?” laughed Polly.

”Oh, Polly! You surely are making fun of us!” said Eleanor, doubtfully.

”No, indeed, she is not! In the three months' time I was at the Cobb School, I saw some terrific gales sweep over the country!” added Anne.

But sign-posts and wind-storms were forgotten for the time when the horses came out on a strange road they had to travel. The wilderness of pine forest had been left on the right after leaving Lone Pine, and the trail led down gradually to a bottomland of brilliant green herbage.

Directly over this emerald valley ran a corduroy roadway.

”There must have been a brook under this at one time!” stated Eleanor, finding the logs partly embedded in caked mud.

”No, this too, is built by our forest-rangers who help the timber jacks build these roads. You see, while frost holds good the heaviest tree trunks can be readily moved over icy swamp bottoms, but in the spring, when thaw and freshets begin, the bottoms are more like a marsh, or shallow lake, than anything else I know of. Then these corduroy roads are a make-s.h.i.+ft for hard ground,” explained Polly, while Noddy started to clip-clop over the firmly-set logs.

”Why don't the men wait for the next frost?” asked Barbara.

”Hoh! Don't you know the trees would be worthless if they were left for a season? Decay and mold or worms would destroy the finest wood.

Besides, these logs, or poles, laid side by side in the mud, soon get to be as solid as a rock, for the mud, oozing up between the c.h.i.n.ks of the logs, dries out and leaves them baked tight in the grooves.”